She'll skip the Muppets, thank you very much (just another thing she can't quite handle yet). David Bowie, however, him she can probably handle.
More chicken people. Amelia's at least somewhat prepared this time and manages to place an order for a simple breakfast style meal of eggs, jellied toast, and coffee without wide eyes, hyperventilating, or feinting. Small progress, but every bit counts.
She takes a seat at an empty table in the corner of the room once she's placed her order. Having a wall at her back makes her feel a little safer in an unfamiliar place. It's easier to keep track of what's going on in front of her when she doesn't have to worry about someone, or something, coming up behind her.
Her face is a bit pale, though, and despite the sleep she got, dark circles remain under her eyes. Someone's been burning at both ends for a while, it seems. After surveying the room, she leans an elbow on the table and reaches that hand toward her hair. A familiar jingling sound fills the air as she plays with the polished flowers of her hair pin.
"This place..." She makes a small face of annoyance as she debates her words. "I feel both comfortable and ill-at-ease. There are so many things going on that I simply don't understand." That annoyed face becomes more pronounced as she speaks. "How do people deal with it all?"
So glad I rewatched Labyrinth yesterday. I feel like that first bit makes more sense that way.
More chicken people. Amelia's at least somewhat prepared this time and manages to place an order for a simple breakfast style meal of eggs, jellied toast, and coffee without wide eyes, hyperventilating, or feinting. Small progress, but every bit counts.
She takes a seat at an empty table in the corner of the room once she's placed her order. Having a wall at her back makes her feel a little safer in an unfamiliar place. It's easier to keep track of what's going on in front of her when she doesn't have to worry about someone, or something, coming up behind her.
Her face is a bit pale, though, and despite the sleep she got, dark circles remain under her eyes. Someone's been burning at both ends for a while, it seems. After surveying the room, she leans an elbow on the table and reaches that hand toward her hair. A familiar jingling sound fills the air as she plays with the polished flowers of her hair pin.
"This place..." She makes a small face of annoyance as she debates her words. "I feel both comfortable and ill-at-ease. There are so many things going on that I simply don't understand." That annoyed face becomes more pronounced as she speaks. "How do people deal with it all?"